watched him walk away: tall and tanned—swarthy by nature, she suspected—muscled like a stevedore, handsome as sin . . . with a cock to die for and a real proficiency at using it. She’d be crazy not to wait.
And before she had time to do more than thank her lucky stars for having stopped by, Jake returned from the kitchen balancing a large, peeled zucchini upright on his palm. It had been carved into a realistic facsimile of an erect penis with smoothly rounded glans, sculpted veins and the slight arc of full-blown arousal.
“Here’s something to keep you interested until I’m off the phone. I wouldn’t want you to be unhappy while you’re waiting.”
“It doesn’t look like I will be. You’re so very talented,” Liv purred, her body already opening in anticipation.
“Ice swans or dildos, it’s all in a day’s work,” he said with a grin. “But more importantly,” he added, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “let’s see if I figured the size right. I was guessing you’d like the economy size.” Leaning over, he eased her legs apart with one hand and slipped the smooth head past her labia, slowly forcing the large dildo deep inside her.
The coolness, the exquisite pressure instantly triggered her already overwrought nerves. She shivered as a shimmering rush of arousal washed over her. No longer questioning her inexplicable longing, she basked in the feverish glow instead, giving Jake high marks for estimating the perfect, optimal size. The zucchini was big, but not too big or almost . . . almost . . . too big in the most exquisite possible way.
When he finally whispered, “There. It’s all the way in,” and nudged it just a little deeper with his palm, she shut her eyes against the wild, explosive delirium convulsing her senses.
“I’m not usually like this,” she panted a moment later, as if she needed to apologize for her lack of restraint. But with an enormous dildo cramming her full, with her every sexual receptor singing the “Hallelujah Chorus” at frenzied pitch, she decided it didn’t really matter about restraint or the lack thereof.
“Hey, everything’s good,” Jake whispered. “Go for it.”
How sweet he was—not selfish, chivalrous even, thinking of her pleasure, apparently understanding the finer points of truth and beauty as related to unbridled desire as well.
And since when had she felt the need to apologize for her sexual urges?
Never.
So there.
Having rationalized away her novel unease having to do with really blissfully countless orgasms that she had to admit were unusual even in her worldly take on life, she stopped quibbling or thinking at all and gave herself up to the extraordinary, superacute pleasure occasioned by Jake’s sculptural talents.
She screamed more than usual when she came the next time.
Perhaps he wouldn’t make his call just yet, Jake decided. Perhaps he’d first talk to her about making less noise. Diplomatically, of course.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as though Eduardo would really give a damn.
Christ, what was he thinking?
Withdrawing the dildo marginally, he shoved it back in and smiled faintly at her gratified sigh. “Enjoy yourself, darling. I’ll make this quick,” he murmured, settling once again into a gentle, adroit rhythm of arousal as he reached for the phone.
Negotiating via a conference call with Eduardo and Devain to save time, Jake kept the conversation as brief as possible. He wasn’t in the mood to quibble over price, which speeded up the process considerably, not to mention Jake’s French was serviceable enough to soothe over Devain ’s notorious irritability.
A price was agreed on in mere minutes, the rare wines locked in for Jake’s restaurants. As Jake made his adieus, Christophe Devain, owner of one of the best vineyards in the world, said, “Jake, mon ami , my regards to your lady. Such lovely little moans. I envy you your evening’s pleasure. ”
Jake didn’t offer
And before she had time to do more than thank her lucky stars for having stopped by, Jake returned from the kitchen balancing a large, peeled zucchini upright on his palm. It had been carved into a realistic facsimile of an erect penis with smoothly rounded glans, sculpted veins and the slight arc of full-blown arousal.
“Here’s something to keep you interested until I’m off the phone. I wouldn’t want you to be unhappy while you’re waiting.”
“It doesn’t look like I will be. You’re so very talented,” Liv purred, her body already opening in anticipation.
“Ice swans or dildos, it’s all in a day’s work,” he said with a grin. “But more importantly,” he added, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “let’s see if I figured the size right. I was guessing you’d like the economy size.” Leaning over, he eased her legs apart with one hand and slipped the smooth head past her labia, slowly forcing the large dildo deep inside her.
The coolness, the exquisite pressure instantly triggered her already overwrought nerves. She shivered as a shimmering rush of arousal washed over her. No longer questioning her inexplicable longing, she basked in the feverish glow instead, giving Jake high marks for estimating the perfect, optimal size. The zucchini was big, but not too big or almost . . . almost . . . too big in the most exquisite possible way.
When he finally whispered, “There. It’s all the way in,” and nudged it just a little deeper with his palm, she shut her eyes against the wild, explosive delirium convulsing her senses.
“I’m not usually like this,” she panted a moment later, as if she needed to apologize for her lack of restraint. But with an enormous dildo cramming her full, with her every sexual receptor singing the “Hallelujah Chorus” at frenzied pitch, she decided it didn’t really matter about restraint or the lack thereof.
“Hey, everything’s good,” Jake whispered. “Go for it.”
How sweet he was—not selfish, chivalrous even, thinking of her pleasure, apparently understanding the finer points of truth and beauty as related to unbridled desire as well.
And since when had she felt the need to apologize for her sexual urges?
Never.
So there.
Having rationalized away her novel unease having to do with really blissfully countless orgasms that she had to admit were unusual even in her worldly take on life, she stopped quibbling or thinking at all and gave herself up to the extraordinary, superacute pleasure occasioned by Jake’s sculptural talents.
She screamed more than usual when she came the next time.
Perhaps he wouldn’t make his call just yet, Jake decided. Perhaps he’d first talk to her about making less noise. Diplomatically, of course.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as though Eduardo would really give a damn.
Christ, what was he thinking?
Withdrawing the dildo marginally, he shoved it back in and smiled faintly at her gratified sigh. “Enjoy yourself, darling. I’ll make this quick,” he murmured, settling once again into a gentle, adroit rhythm of arousal as he reached for the phone.
Negotiating via a conference call with Eduardo and Devain to save time, Jake kept the conversation as brief as possible. He wasn’t in the mood to quibble over price, which speeded up the process considerably, not to mention Jake’s French was serviceable enough to soothe over Devain ’s notorious irritability.
A price was agreed on in mere minutes, the rare wines locked in for Jake’s restaurants. As Jake made his adieus, Christophe Devain, owner of one of the best vineyards in the world, said, “Jake, mon ami , my regards to your lady. Such lovely little moans. I envy you your evening’s pleasure. ”
Jake didn’t offer
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